Drift x Perceptor 2
by DconSlut
Summary: OneShot, PWP, M x M, smutfic,


AU, inspired by More Than Meets The Eye (MTMTE), and Drift's spotlight. Reviews appreciated!

"This is... different." Perceptor murmured, uncertainty clear in his voice, despite his sighs of pleasure. Drift licked along the gaps in his chest plating, then slid over and down, his mouth and hands idly tugging and sucking at the coolant hoses at Perceptor's side. The scientist's circuits buzzed with excitement. He squirmed beneath Drift's weight.

"Thought you could use something like this." Drift said as he nibbled the attachment ring at Perceptor's side. He gasped, his hands kneading Drift's shoulders, undecided between pulling him closer or pushing him away. His tongue found another fold of metal to lavish attention on. "A little treat for my favourite. Something slow and hot."

Perceptor moaned. Drift smirked, thoroughly loveing the way Perceptor lay beneath him, pressed flat against the berth, nowhere to hide. To this day he still quivered beneath the swordsmech's hands, bless him. It was a fearful kind of reaction. He never got enough of seeing the vulnerability there, got off intensely when Perceptor submitted to him completely, despite the subroutine of fear that still flitted through his processors. Drift knew he owned this mech, and what a lovely mech he was. Well known, well respected and he would have been claimed already had Perceptor's cold, stoic nature not frightened away so many suitors. But Drift knew just what Perceptor really wanted, knew how to expertly peel back the layers and there was nothing he enjoyed more than lavishing the tender, sweet spark he's found beneath the layers.

"Drift..." Perceptor whispered, helm turned to the side as his ventilations quicken. The warrior swiped his tongue over Perceptor's shut interface hatch, then began a slow, loving ascent up along ever corner and cross-hatch of metal. Perceptor moaned beautifully, feeling every kiss and nibble and lick. He rocked himself himself against Drift, rubbing his panel against any part of Drift's body.

Drift made a hungry sound as he continued to play with Perceptor. He was getting turned on but the scientist wasn't at the precipice yet. Drift was going to draw this out, tease Perceptor raw, make this well-behaved scientist forget himself and thrash and buck with wild pleasure. He's done it before, much to his (later) embarrassment. Perceptor's spread his legs wide, canted his hips and showed off his valve, fingered himself to completion. The things Percy did in the heat of the moment could stall a processor. And Drift fully owned it, because he was the one who brought it out; he protected Perceptor, encouraged him, made him feel safe and desired.

Somewhere in his fevered imaginings, Drift lost the rhythm of his actions. He kissed Perceptor rough and deep, while he ground his hips into the black pelvic plating beneath him. Perceptor spread his legs wide and dug his fingers into the white detailed metal as he struggled with his meager strength to drive Drift's hips harder into his own. His ventilations came loud and fast as he arched upward. He lost himself quickly, lost the proper protocols that made him quiet and reserved. His internal processing buffers cycled up fast, shoving the proper stuff out of the way and replaced it with the ever-building feedback of the weight on his frame, how hot it was to lie helpless and trusting beneath it, feel its power sinking deep into him and be pleasured by it.

"Urgh, Drift..." The swordsmech was enchanted by the way Perceptor undulated beneath him. "Let me open up." He said, but Drift didn't relent in his grinding motions. Perceptor glared, looking petulent and pouty, and strut-meltingly sexy. His arousal mounted higher as he moved against Drift. He left bite marks in the exposed cabling at Drift's neck and his fingers left trails in Drift's spaulders and still the swordsmech patiently maintained his pace, rutting on his berth mate, the charge and build up of fluid behind their shut panels heating and sensitizing mesh, node and metal.

Drift's optics swirled wide as they mapped and traced and memorised the way Perceptor's vents made his chestplate heave, the way he thrashed his helm in building ecstasy, how he bit his fingers as he was rutted on. The scientist's pretty blue optics stared at Drift, glassy with heat, with the need for release. Drift never toyed with him like this, was never so meticulous and slow. Behind his panel, there was a sharp pop and crackle of charge. Perceptor howled as involuntary shudders wracked his frame.

Finally, Drift allowed some space between them and Perceptor's panel was actually pushed open by the force of his overload. Fluid spilled out of him in a rush, the sound wet and dripping, the smell sweet and satisfying to Drift. The involuntary spiraling in Perceptor's valve brought pleasure too. Perceptor rubbed the metallic ring of his valve. With his transfluid slicked hand, he took hold of Drift's spike, his grip fast and light over the thickly ridged shaft. It wasn't long before Drift made a shout of pleasure as he rode out his overload.

It took them some time to recover themselves. They laid there quietly on their sides, facing each other, kissed, stroked, petted, cuddled. Perceptor whispered sweetly between kisses. "I thought you'd like that." Drift murmured back, utterly pleased with himself. Perceptor smiled and looked bashful. They lay together, pleasure heavy in their limbs, exhaustion stealing away their consciousness. The white mech enjoyed seeing these sides of Perceptor; the wanton, desperate side, the coy and adorable side. Such an array of emotion all locked within this shy, quiet mech.

A beautfiul thing that Drift alone held.


End file.
